


The Silent Sound of Loneliness

by Macx



Series: Fate Lines [1]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Claiming, Episode Related, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prompt Fic, Psychic Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-09
Updated: 2012-03-15
Packaged: 2017-11-01 17:07:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/359245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The prompt went as follows: </p>
<p>When he saw the coins, he knew they'd give him the ability to charm his way back into full power, reporters and subordinates alike bent to his smile. Except for the one he wanted most.</p>
<p>He wanted Nick to submit to his charm, move to his control, but the coins didn't give him that, no matter how hard he tried.</p>
<p>But maybe Nick of his own free will, can give him what the coins wouldn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Čeština available: [The Silent Sound of Loneliness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3723115) by [TakahashiYuri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TakahashiYuri/pseuds/TakahashiYuri)



_“Nononono! I… I can’t find them. He took them. I can’t…. Nick!”_

 

Desperation. Panic. Confusion. Mild bouts of hysteria.

 

_“Nick!”_

 

The expression in the green eyes, tinged with something more; something… wesen. The terror of losing the coins had broken Renard’s defenses. Nick was looking at something he had never noticed around his captain before, and he felt it almost physically.

Nick looked back at that moment, aware of what he had seen in a brief second, what he had felt, and like the last pieces of a puzzle things slid into place. Smoothly, seamlessly, perfectly.

 

_“You have to help me find them!”_

 

Hands clinging to his jacket. Burning eyes drilling into his head, trying to impose a will on him. The will of an addict. The will of his captain.

 

_“Who took them?!”_

_Nails that looked wrong, almost like claws about to grow. Hard and slightly pointy, digging into his jacket._

_“Nick!”_

_Harsh breaths. Like he had run a marathon. Like he was going through the worst kind of pain._

 

But it was over now. For good. Nick knew it. He had hidden the coins.

What he hadn’t been able to get rid of was the sensation that whatever had affected Renard, whatever he had tried to do with the coins, it was just now leaving his system.

The captain had been looked at by the paramedics, but the blow to the head hadn’t even left a concussion. The little blood from the split lip had been removed, then the man had disappeared. Giving his statement to an officer, leaving almost unnoticed. Slinking away.

Hiding, running, shame and hunger for the coins racing through him, most likely.

Hank had described the sensations to Nick, had told him that he had been unable to think clearly, so the captain was most likely just as badly affected. Hank had become more assured of himself, more aggressive, had given him a dangerous edge. Uncontrollable. Possibly lethal.

Poisoned by the coins, unable to fight the desire they launched, Renard had given in to the harsher nature inside him. He hadn’t been as aggressive as Hank, but he had opened Nick’s eyes to Renard’s goals in life.

Not bad ones, actually. Protecting Portland from the criminal element was a laudable dream. But the coins removed inhibitions; they made you a puppet. They gave the primal side command and power. Even the best ideas would become twisted into nothing but black shards of their former selves. Until nothing of that person was left.

Not even Sean Renard could fight this.

Not had he been able to fight the longing, the hunger, to get them back. It had been an edge of madness and Nick had seen the fever in his eyes, had seen it all swirl in there. Renard would have given everything to get the coins back.

Like Farley Kolt. The steinadler had been just as enthralled by them, chasing the coins all those years, claiming to be on Nick’s side but actually only wanting them for himself.

Renard had lost himself completely for just a second in front of Nick Burckhardt.

The Grimm.

Who knew.

 

It was why Nick was now standing in the clear-cut, very expensive looking apartment of his superior officer, eyes on the dark sky outside the window front. He had no idea just how much Renard had sunk into this place, but the money reflected in the clean, structured place his captain called home.

Looking at the man, Nick saw fine tremors race through him. He looked… not good. ‘Bad’ would have been too strong a word for it, but there was a gray sheen around the edges and his eyes held a duller than normal expression. Something tickled Nick’s senses, like a shift in the air, a reflection of something else in Sean Renard.

He was something else.

Nick knew it, but he didn’t know what. He had caught a brief glimpse in the garage, but now… now he so very close.

Their eyes met and the burning green gaze was flecked with gold. Dressed in only a black t-shirt and equally black sweat pants, Renard looked very different from the man Nick saw at work every day. Like his armor had been stripped away, like he was laid bare before the Grimm’s eyes, and if he squinted just a little bit, the difference was even more visible.

He had let Nick in. With hardly a fight. Just looking at him, almost lost and alone and so… sad. Renard had simply turned away and walked into his apartment, leaving the decision up to Nick. Come in or go away again.

He had come in, shutting the door quietly.

Renard had gone into the kitchen and offered Nick a beer. He had taken it, but had yet to drink from the cool bottle. It was an expensive brand, microbrew, and something Monroe would probably have fawned over.

He studied the other man. Sean Renard was a commanding presence, tall and powerful, with a voice that carried even if he didn’t raise it. Nick had seen the expressions of the people at the press conference. Not all had been the coins; a lot was Renard’s charisma.

Nothing of that commanding presence was visible now. Here was a man going through withdrawal, who felt beaten, alone, lost and unable to comprehend what had truly happened to him. The madness of the coins was receding, but the emotions that remained were probably troubling and confusing and unlike anything the man usually felt.

“You don’t need them.”

His words broke the silence and Renard flinched a little. He looked almost devastated.

“What you do, what you did, that’s you. You never needed the coins. They were pure poison.”

Renard licked his lips. “Their power is hard to resist.”

“Some can ignore them.”

Renard smiled humorlessly. “Like you?”

“Maybe?”

“I was warned. I thought I could handle it. Even then they were in my head, in my very soul, guiding my actions, showing me what I could be.”

Nick approached, trying to push the image of the frantic man sitting against the pillar out of his mind.

“You already are the protector of Portland. You don’t need the corruptive force of the coins.”

The flare of gold was brighter now, almost like a trick of the light.

“Am I right? The coins enhanced your dreams and your desires.”

Like they had enhanced Hank’s take-charge-nature, had made him more aggressive toward achieving his goal.

“I heard the speech. You want this city safe. You keep it safe. You have claimed it.”

Renard stared at him, silent, unguarded, his shields shattered, and the Grimm could read him. For the first time since Nick had met the man, he could read him.

And he could sense something.

In the back of his mind, like a soft pull, like something that had been there for a long time and he had never really recognized it. It was a presence that had come and gone, had been there, then disappeared, like a ghostly touch he had never been able to pinpoint.

He had blamed it on the Grimm side of his life.

He had blamed it on stress and too much work and too much going on in his life.

But if he was truthful to himself, it had been there for a lot longer. He had never made the connection until today.

In an underground parking lot, with fingers clenching into his jacket and his superior officer begging with him to find the coins.

In that moment the sensation had been all-powerful, a need projected into him, a hunger that wasn’t just fueled by the coins. It had been emotions and colors and images, a mind so close it couldn’t really be possible, but it had been.

He had somehow understood, in that one moment. He had looked beyond the shields, had torn away the veils, and he had seen more than Renard had probably ever wanted him to know. He had touched another soul and it had been wounded and weak and keening for a drug that would kill it.

And Nick had caught a few stray… images. Not thoughts. Just… like ideas.

“You tried them on me, right?”

tbc...


	2. Chapter 2

Renard blinked, startled, then looked away.

"You tried to influence me."

"You are one of my best detectives," came the soft answer.

"That's not it. You know what I am, Sean. I know what you are. Maybe not the name, but I know you're a wesen."

Green eyes filled with a burnished golden color, the only confession to his creature side the taller man gave him.

"And you used the coins to do what? Push me off track? Stop?"

Renard shook his head slowly. "No, I would never have you stop."

Thinking back, Nick knew that much was true. His captain had never told him to drop a case. He had sometimes even helped him along to a degree. All those little gestures, and the looks, and the remarks… he had known right from the beginning. He had probably known about Marie, about Nick's heritage, everything.

Because he knew.

Because he was involved in this to a degree Nick had yet to understand.

A dark thought rose inside him.

"Did you know about my parents?" he demanded, voice harder, colder.

Renard shook his head. "No."

The truth. Nick knew it was the truth. The presence within him, the gentle touch that had seemed like someone looking over his shoulder when there was no one around, was wavering. Unsure. Filled with trepidation.

The coins had stripped Sean Renard of everything and right now, in this very moment, Nick was the one with the upper hand.

No lies between them.

Whatever he did now, it would change their interaction, their relationship, forever.

"What did you use the coins on me for then?"

"I wanted you closer, Nick." The words sounded almost hesitant.

Closer.

Closer as in… closer…?

Renard was standing in front of him, dressed all in black, tall and imposing and powerful and still so lost and alone and apparently defeated. The echoes of the loss the coins had made him go through was vibrant and real in his eyes. Nick could see him fight it, he felt the last slivers of their whispers, and he realized that there was more. So much more.

Not just the physical attraction, though that was very powerful. Strong and unquestionable. Sean Renard was an attractive, handsome man. Nick had given him more than one look. But getting involved with anyone at work, let alone a superior officer, was dangerous.

Tonight, all those good intentions had gone out the window. Tonight he was looking at not only Captain Renard, he was also looking at Sean, and he was looking at the creature this powerful man was. And Nick knew that the creature wasn't a lightweight either. Whatever was hidden underneath he human façade, it was very, very strong.

It didn't scare him, though.

Weird. Strange. And so… real. He wasn't afraid of falling. He had no idea what he was facing, if it was really a benign thing, if it was a manipulative bastard, if it was parts of both. He trusted in his instinct, like Marie had told him. he trusted the predator the Grimm was to recognize danger.

"You didn't need the coins for that," he said calmly.

Renard stared at him, surprise and shock and disbelief warring with him.

Nick closed the last distance, placing a hand flat against Renard's chest, stretching just a little to make up for their size difference. It didn't give him much on the other man.

"I want the truth, Sean," he said, voice level, dropping just a little as if delivering a threat. A promise. "I want to know who you are, what you are."

Renard opened his mouth, but Nick's expression silenced him.

"Not now. Right now I want you to understand that the coins are not important. They won't give you what you really want. Their power if poison. You protect Portland. So do I. I'm a Grimm. And you want me. You tried to make me yours with the coins, right?"

Something hot seemed to flash through the golden eyes, something filled with hunger. Nick felt himself respond, like a primal part of him echoing the lust and hunger, wanting it just as badly.

"You never needed them. All you needed was to let me know."

"You're not that easy, Nick," Renard said roughly.

"No, I'm not. And you wouldn't want me like that anyway, right?"

Renard smiled briefly, shaking his head. He was still standing completely still, not touching Nick, as if he was afraid it would break this moment.

"No. You never bent to my will, Nick Burckhardt, not even with the coins. You defy everything."

Nick grinned. "Grimm's can't be controlled," he said softly. "We don't have a master."

Something flashed through Renard's eyes and he knew he had hit bull's eye right then and there.

"I read a lot," he added.

"Apparently."

"What a Grimm can have is… a relationship."

Like Marie had had with the steinadler. Farley Kolt had been in love, had been engaged, with a Grimm. Nick knew they would have made it work. The idea of that had launched a whole new set of questions about his family tree that he would have to dig into one day.

But not right now and not today.

Renard's eyes turned more orange, intense and burning.

"I want to trust you, Sean. I want to give you what you thought you needed the coins for. You know, all you had to do was ask."

"I'm your superior officer."

Nick smiled humorlessly. "Outside work, you're a wesen and I'm a Grimm. Not the perfect constellation either. But I believe that we can make this work." He let some of the hardness of the Grimm bleed into his voice. "All I'm asking for is the truth. All of it. I'm asking for everything of you."

The strange sensation in his head grew, like something was trying to establish itself there. Nick inserted a virtual wall and saw Renard wince.

"The truth," he demanded.

"You're mine," Renard blurted, sounding almost as breathless as back in the parking garage. "Mine to have, mine to protect, mine to mate. Never anyone else's."

Gray eyes widened. "Why?" Nick demanded, thoughts whirling.

"Because you're perfect. You always were. I only needed you to realize your true nature, your powers, and you would become mine."

"Since when?"

A tremor went through the taller form and for the first time Renard allowed himself to touch Nick, a gentle brush of hesitant fingers over his side.

"Since you came under my command."

Nick hadn't seen that one coming. He had been with the Portland PD for how many years?

The pressure in the back of his head, never painful, just there, like a guardian keeping an eye on him…

"You… that's you," he whispered.

"Yes."

"How?"

"My kind… we choose a mate… because they fit. Perfectly. Absolute perfection. And you were that one for me. We connect ourselves psychically, to better guard the mate."

Total honesty.

"Mate as in…? Bedpartner?"

"Only if both parties agree. Otherwise, it's a partnership. The mates are needed for… balance."

Nick studied him. Balance, huh?

"You can read my mind?"

"No. It's an awareness of you. Enough to keep me… sated." Renard looked almost embarrassed. "I do want you, Nick. I always have. Because it's hard not to touch what is perfect in my eyes."

Yes, total honesty.

"But if I wouldn't want that closeness?" Nick prodded.

Hands clenched into his shirt, almost like a reflex, and there was a deep pain shooting over the haggard features.

"You would always be mine, under my protection, never to be harmed. I would never force myself on my mate; you're too precious to lose. I need you more than I can ever tell you."

And since the coins hadn't given Renard what he had so obviously wanted from his detective… Under the influence, hungering for a mate that was more than just a presence at his side, the other man had tried, and failed.

Nick stepped back and raked a hand through his hair. Renard was watching him, an expression of fear and imminent loss on his slightly too pale features. Nick gazed at him, feeling his Grimm side war with his human side, the attraction to the man Sean Renard was dampened just a little by the fact that he was a powerful creature who had acted behind the scenes.

Green eyes met his gaze. Renard looked like a wounded animal. The Grimm had the upper hand right now, able to deal the final blow to the hurt soul, shatter the final shields and take the man down completely. Destroy him. The coins had weakened him, had made him vulnerable to attack, but Renard had let Nick in, knowing fully well who and what he was.

tbc...


	3. Chapter 3

"This can't work if you keep me out of the loop," he finally said, voice decisive.

Renard's brows rose. The cracks in his usually so stern façade had widened, had made it possible for Nick to dig deep and pull out all the pain and loneliness.

"You say I'm your partner, your mate. You say you need me. Right?"

He nodded wordlessly.

Nick gave him a hard, penetrating look. "Well, I need to know. Not just the headlines and the lies you tell everyone to cover up what's really going on. I know I'm not exactly the most popular person in the creature world, even though I don't kill just for fun. I never took a life unless I had no other choice."

"I know. It makes you more dangerous to many than a killer would be."

Nick blinked. Renard smiled a little crookedly.

"You made my job even harder because you're the catch-and-release kind of Grimm. You're a cop first. You have a badge and a conscience, something all other Grimms lacked. At least the badge. The conscience was a matter of interpretation in some cases. You won't act rashly and take a creature's life. You want to help. It makes you very dangerous to others."

"Who? The reapers?"

Renard nodded. "If you don't kill just for the thrill, they are starting to lose ground. Other creatures won't support them. You already have help from our kind."

Nick froze.

"I knew right from the beginning, Nick. And it was good. It was so very good that he was there for you. I can't be that directly involved."

"Because of what you are?"

"Yes."

"And you are what exactly?"

"I'm a Guardian. Portland is my territory." Renard hesitated, then let more shields drop.

Nick looked into the shifting features, intrigued by the otherworldy look, the sharper angles, the intense eyes, the predatory nature. If he squinted he thought he saw sleek, black horn-like structures sweeping away. And for a brief second he shivered as he caught more of the true form, not fully shifted, but really far from any kind of creature he had ever seen. He really didn't want to ponder the ghostly wings that winked immediately out of existence. Wings!

"We are called regnants. Or premiers. My line comes from Europe. We rule a protectorate. Portland is mine."

"And having a Grimm in your protectorate?"

"Makes a lot of people nervous," Renard answered, reasserting his façade. "For me it was luck that you were that Grimm, not your aunt."

Nick's blood ran cold. Images of the Marie flashed through his mind, the last days in her life, her struggle against cancer, her will to survive just a little longer. She had come back to him because of it, because her life would soon end. She had wanted to prepare her nephew for his heritage.

"And you're very good at hiding your nature from Grimms," Nick stated, pushing those memories away.

"Losing control is not an option. Even emotions can't drop the shields. I either want it or not." He hesitated, then sighed. "With a mate it's… more difficult… especially the closer we get. I could hide myself up until now, but it was hard. And the… baser side of myself wanted you to see me."

"I see."

Nick approached again, feeling the tingle of hope from that connection Renard had initiated. He knew the other man wanted so much more, had tried the coins on Nick because he had seen no other way. But there was. And Nick was very willing to do it the conventional way right now.

"If I'm your chosen mate, then you are also mine, correct?"

Green eyes widened in surprise. "Yes," the taller man answered, perplexed.

"Your claim on me means that I get to claim you, right?"

Another nod. Renard looked speechless. He had probably never given that perspective a thought.

"I don't mind staking my claim on you," Nick added with a sly look.

Renard's eyes widened. "Nick?"

"I will give this to you. All of it. All of me. For you. And you will be mine, Sean. You're a predator and a protector, like me." Nick leaned forward, eyes burning into Renard's.

His gaze was met by fire, untamed and ready to engulf him. Nick was attracted to Sean, he was very willing to have a closer relationship with him, but on his own terms. He wanted more than just a position as a tool for Renard to use. He was the other man's equal outside their police work.

Nick could see them together; they would be good together. But he wouldn't compromise his Grimm work or any of his friends over this. He wasn't going to bow down.

"I won't ever submit," he said matter-of-factly, voice hard. "I'm not your trophy. I'm not your beta. I'm not going to walk half a step behind you. This is my territory, too."

Renard's expression was hot and turmoiled. "You were never meant to be my submissive, Nick," he said hoarsely. "A mate is chosen for their strength, for their will-power, for their abilities. We wouldn't be able to live in a partnership with a submissive. We need a strong partner. It makes us… me… stronger, too."

And through the open lips Nick saw the hint of sharp teeth; fangs. He felt the fingertips sliding over his shirt, then under the hem, and the scratch of claws. He almost laughed as he recalled what Renard had said about losing control and dropping shields. This was just another little bit of powerplay, showing the Grimm the traits of a regnant, but he wasn't about to be cowed. He pushed back, trapping the other man against the wall, Renard's eyes widening in shocked surprise.

"You're not my handler," the Grimm continued. "You're not my master. And you won't get to the coins through me ever again. If this is only a ploy to find them, forget it!"

The taller man shivered.

"They weaken you. They make you an easy target; prey! You think a schakal would have gotten the drop on you otherwise?"

Renard looked away, embarrassment flushing his features.

"Look at me!" Nick commanded sharply.

And he did, unable to ignore the younger man.

"You're already a Guardian. Nothing can enhance this, make it better. Nothing you possess can elevate your position any more, right?"

"No," was the quiet answer.

"And I'm yours, Sean. All yours. Your mate, not a possession. I'm your balance. I'm all you need."

The lust came back ten-fold, strong and unguarded and raw. Nick felt the claws, felt his own spike of arousal at the thought just how dangerous the man he was about to fully accept as his mate truly was. But he wanted Sean's true nature, he felt the same lust and hot need, he wanted to feel him inside him, he wanted those claws and fangs, he wanted it all; forever.

"Mine," the regnant murmured, a hint of wonder in his voice.

"Yes. Exclusively."

Renard pulled Nick flush against him and then their mouths collided.

The world didn't stop, but it creaked on its axis. Renard wrapped his arms around the other man, opened up, kissing back, their meeting wild and dominating, and being both predator and prey in one. Neither surrendered, neither stopped, until both pulled out of the harsh encounter.

Gold sparked in green eyes.

Gray eyes challenged and bore down on the powerful creature.

Renard leaned down, taking Nick's mouth in another kiss and he let him. He let his wrists get caught in strong hands, pinned to the wall. He let the other man lead, let him delve into Nick's mouth and guide his tongue around prominent canines.

And he let a moan escape, let the powerful, tall presence sweep over him. No, he had no size kink, but Renard's presence and his size and his strength were a turn-on nevertheless.

Geez!

"This isn't going to be easy, is it?" Nick asked huskily when they finally came apart once more.

Renard laughed breathlessly. "No."

"Good."

"You like challenges?"

He licked his lips, liking the spark of golden fire in the green eyes.

"Guess."

The next kiss was deeper, exploring the other; wilder; more intense. Renard nipped at his lips, sloppily kissed along his jaw, fangs grazing his neck without drawing blood. Nick shuddered, insanely aroused.

Yes, he wanted it. Yes, it was a dream come true. Yes, he had had ideas about Sean Renard, police captain, but they didn't fit the reality of Sean Renard, regnant. He had entertained fantasies, had liked the idea of seeing the other man naked, and he had had a few jerk-offs to that. It had been good, but the reality was so much better.

The connection between them was suddenly alive, thrumming with need, with want, with something so primal he felt himself respond despite better knowledge.

Grimms had intermingled with creatures before.

His aunt had been in love with a steinadler. They had been about to be married.

The logical part inside Nick wondered what his father might have been, how human he had truly been, what his heritage entailed. The instinct-driven part shushed him, wanting more of Renard, wanting skin, wanting all of it right now.

And looking into the fully golden eyes of his mate, Renard was close to losing restraint and just taking what he had longed for all those years.

Nick smiled, the next kiss teasing, promising, taunting. He nibbled at the other man's lower lip, easily freeing his hands as his mate let him go without much a fight, and he slid a hand under the black shirt.

Smooth, warm skin. Firm and still not too muscular. Nice and silky. And he knew he was teasing a dangerous creature by the expression in Renard's eyes. His hands were grabbed again, the claws more prominent now, and the regnant shuddered, fighting his baser nature.

Renard wasn't at full strength; the coins had sapped his energy, had made him a puppet to his darkest desires. But still, if this was a low-energy version, Nick couldn't wait to see him in his full glory. And he intended to make his mate show him what he looked like, who he was, in every detail.

He pulled away, the clawed hands letting him go. It was time to take this somewhere else, somewhere more comfortable than a quick, hard rut against the wall, though in the future he wasn't opposed to it either.

Nick saw a lot of very entertaining ways to have sex in their future. If Renard thought his mate was vanilla, he would be surprised to find the fiery core underneath that harmless, handsome exterior.

He didn't need to ask where the bedroom in the clean-cut, sleek apartment was. Nick didn't need to invite Renard along. He barely had a chance to get close to the bed when he was pounced and landed on the mattress, a hungry looking regnant straddling him.

Renard stripped off the black shirt and Nick's eyes were on the graceful whirls and lines of an intricate tattoo that ran down Sean's left side. He touched it, surprised that the cool and collected captain he had thought the man to be had body art. Especially symmetrically on both sides, so light and playful, not heavy and garish. Not like a teenage years sin.

Chest heaving, nostrils blowing wide as if taking in his scent, the eyes still so eerily like a steinadler's while the rest of the face was very human, Renard regarded him with barely restrained hunger. He was very close to losing it and Nick realized just how much it took out of the other man to keep himself from simply handing over his actions to instinct.

His Grimm side rose, fighting to stay in control, not to give in to a creature, to be weak and submissive. The more gentle nature of Nick Burckhardt reined in that need and gazed into the needy eyes of his mate.

"Yours," he only said.

Surrender. Temporary and conditional, but surrender.

The kiss was long, deep, more than just the hungry version of before. It relayed a lot, more than needing a good fuck. It relayed pent-up emotions neither of the two dared to utter out loud, and Nick tasted the intensity within.

The need rose, voicing something he was afraid to translate into words.

Two predators gazed at one another, wanting one another. Nick didn't back down, neither did Renard, and the Grimm and the regnant struggled against the other powerful creature.

"You wanted me," Nick said huskily, breaking the tension. "You got me."

"Nick…"

"I'm not going to roll over and call you 'your majesty'," he added, light teasing in his voice, one hand running over the dark sweatpants-clad thigh.

Renard leaned closer, breathing hard, rumbling softly. "Grimm…"

"I've done this before," Nick murmured.

There was a flare of understanding.

"Yours," the Grimm repeated.

His for now; for tonight. His to take; his to claim.

Renard screwed his eyes shut, shuddering.

"Sean?"

It was like a final blessing and Nick relaxed into the mattress, surrendering for the time being.

And then all bets were off.

tbc...


	4. Chapter 4

Hard, sharp claws against warm skin.

Dangerous. So freaking dangerous. Soft skin was no barrier, easy to slice, easy to tear, easy to make him bleed.

Nick groaned at the sensation.

Tickling, teasing, arousing.

He wanted to fight the danger, he wanted to trap the hands and push them away, move away from the lethal weapons, but a part of him trusted Renard. He trusted him not to take advantage of the aroused Grimm, not to betray him.

Fangs grazed his neck and Renard's nimble fingers were pushing away fabric that was in the way.

Nick inhaled sharply, gray eyes blown wide, seeking out Sean's gaze, needing to know.

The regnant growled possessively, but no words were uttered.

Nick was safe. He had always been safe. No regnant would ever hurt their mate, would spill blood or force them into anything they didn't want. If that mate was also a Grimm... it would make things even more complicated if the Grimm instincts took over.

Nick couldn't fight back – he wanted this; he needed this so badly. His whole body thrummed with need, vibrated with lust, and he wanted it so badly. He surrendered control, let all fight bleed out of him, took the Grimm instinct and locked it away.

 

Renard's eyes glowed with emotions. And wonder. And disbelief that he finally had what he had tried to get through the coins.

Nick wanted him, he wanted this, he wanted everything. And the regnant understood. The thrum in the back of his mind was intensifying.

He trailed caresses over the slender, pale form. He took note of every reaction while his own arousal rose, straining against the leash, wanting now.

Taking the already reddened lips into a fierce kiss, Sean blanketed the smaller form, rejoiced in the feeling of moving against the hard length, pushing, demanding, no longer asking. Nick bit at his lower lip, eyes sparking, his surrender going only so far. His fingers bit into Renard's shoulders, pulling him closer, one leg wrapping around his.

The regnant trailed little bites that left only light marks down the column of Nick's throat. He felt the wave of need rise up. He wouldn't be able to stave off what was coming much longer.

It was too much.

It was his dream, his fantasy, come true.

 

The first release was a sudden explosion, a cry wrenching from his lips as he bucked against the taller form keeping him down, and his hands buried against muscular shoulders. He heard an echoing groan, felt Renard move against him with an almost frantic rhythm.

Nick closed his eyes, panting, still feeling the deep thrum of need, of ecstasy. His hands were still clawing into Sean's shoulders, holding on tightly.

More. He needed more. This hadn't been enough.

A tiny part of Nick wondered if Renard's creature side was giving off pheromones because he was still so very much aroused and from the hard length he felt, so was Sean. If this was any indication of what he could expect out of this relationship... he was going to be so, so sore.

Strong hands caressed his limbs, mapped every inch of his skin, and his mate's lips left a trail of hot and wet kisses.

Nick reached up, caught the other around the neck and pulled him down into a hard kiss.

"You. In me," he whispered. "I want you in me."

Renard's pupils looked blown with the intensity of his reaction to the harshly gasped words.

By now Nick wasn't sure if his emotions were still his own or if he wasn't receiving half of them through whatever this was that Sean had created between them.

Pheromones. Mirrored emotions. Some kind of loop created between them. He didn't care.

He wanted and needed and he would take what he wanted.

 

The friction when Renard finally slid home had the Grimm groan deeply in his chest. His eyes closed, all his muscles locked, and he panted hard.

He felt like he didn't belong to this body any more. He felt so much and couldn't put it into words. It was too intense, but not enough. It was too fast, but not deep and hard enough. It was pure energy, intermingling with lust and sex and everything.

It was different from the encounters he had had with men in his life. Very far from the fumbling in a locker room in high school. Not even close to the blowjobs in college. Barely lived up to the first time he had had someone enter him after a night out. And nothing at all like any kind of sex he had had with a man or a woman ever since. So much more. So very different. It was frustration and need, and it tore him away, made him float and fall and shout his need.

He felt claws slide over his skin and the Grimm inside him shivered, aware how vulnerable he was by now. But he was also excited and everything vibrated with that excitement.

Renard pulled him up, hips moving, and he moved even deeper, Nick groaning with the renewed sensation. He needed release. Now. No finesse, just the heady explosion of passion and lust and primal desire.

His voice felt raw, his pleas without words, and suddenly there was no going back. He felt it like an overpowering flood, pressing down on him, and then there was only… the rush. It tore him apart and made him whole in one.

Fangs buried in his shoulder and the sudden pain combined with the pleasure, making it a heady, intoxicating ride. For a second he wanted to react all-Grimm to the bite, but the soothing presence in his mind, wrapped protectively around his very soul, calmed that darker nature.

It was okay.

Sean would never hurt him; never betray him.

Nick held onto the other man, wanted him closer, deeper, more, and still it wasn't enough until his body sagged. He was caught in strong arms and moaned softly.

Golden eyes glowed with the reflection of what he felt, of the complete and utter destruction of everything, every shield, every thought, every emotion.

Something else formed slowly as they lay together, strong and powerful and resonating between them. It was like that protective shield around him, that knowledge that Sean was there, had always been there. It was part of the creature he had surrendered to and it was part of him, stronger and more aware. It wasn't ever going to go away.

Nick shivered, murmuring softly.

Sean kissed him, soft and pliant and spent. Nick pulled him close, let the regnant rest his head on the Grimm's shoulder, let him drop off to sleep. He stroked over the short hair, ran his fingers through the strands, then over his temple in a calming caress.

Renard's arm lay over his waist, possessive in one way, reflecting his fear of his mate leaving in another. Nick smiled sleepily.

He wasn't going anywhere.

Neither was Sean.

He kept up the caress, liking the feel, the weight of the other man with him in bed.

tbc...


	5. Chapter 5

_"I want to see the coins."_

_Large, golden, all three of them so perfect. In his grasp. The swastika and the lion's head._

_Whispering to him. Eternity and good luck. Power and everything he had ever wanted._

_Holding them… they were already influencing him. Already did his mind fall for their false promises, to the madness and the poison burrowing deeper and deeper._

_Worn smooth in places, thinner than he had thought… so perfectly fitting into his palm._

_His power._

_"Listen to me. You must be very careful."_

_Their whispers had been terrible. Cutting into his mind, erasing his personality, keeping him under a control he thought he was yielding. But this hadn't been him._

_His blood ran hot with desire._

_The world at his beck and call._

_He would rule his city, he would protect it. He would have his mate._

_His mate._

_All his._

_Never to be shared._

_He sat against the stone pillar in the underground parking lot, letting a paramedic check him out._

_His mate was gone. He was alone._

_And he ached. The loneliness tore at him. He still felt his fingers touch his mate, clinging to him, demanding of Nick to find the coins. He would have given Nick the world to get the coins. Everything!_

_Renard knew he had fallen for the Coins of Zakynthos like so many before him._

_He had been warned._

_He hadn't listened._

_He had paid for it._

 

 

Renard woke to the feeling of safety, warmth and completion. In that order. He looked around the room and found that they were in the bedroom. After the Grimm's surrender to the regnant, things were a blur. A very pleasant blur.

Balance. Everything was… completely at balance. For the first time in a long time did he feel like he was missing nothing at all. He had never felt this calm and collected, so aware of everything despite the heaviness of their spent pleasure. He was sharper, more within himself, and he felt the power of the Grimm.

Renard smiled, burying closer to the warm body next to him. The smell was unmistakable. Nick Burckhardt. His subordinate at work, a Grimm, and now his mate.

His.

Not a subordinate; far from it. Nick would always be his equal.

Like a cool darkness, covering him, erasing the fever and the madness, Nick was now part of him. The lure of the coins was only an afterthought, a bad taste in his mouth, roiling through him like a nightmare. He had wanted the coins so badly, had needed them to be better, to be the ruler they wanted, to be powerful and charismatic. He had charmed everyone, the press, his subordinates, the mayor. He had had everything at the tip of his fingers, his to control and his to rule.

But never Nick.

The ache of the loneliness at that thought had for one insanely sane second driven back the lure of the coins, but then the veil had reasserted itself.

He had dreamed of Nick. Had wanted him with him, naked in bed, underneath the dark, silky sheets, bearing his marks. He had wanted him at his side, as his partner, facing the crowds of loyal followers. He had wanted him to share this city with him.

But Nick hadn't been influenced by the coins. Nick was his own, he was free and untamed, he was everything to the regnant. Renard would never have gotten him to bed, let alone even closer to him, with the coins.

Thinking of his plans now, it disgusted him. He would have forced himself on his mate, would have taken what hadn't been offered freely, but the coins had left him with no doubt. They had enhanced his lust, his needs, and if Nick had come under the influence of the cursed coins, he would have done whatever Renard had wanted him to do – without ever thinking it was wrong.

Sean ran a gentle caress over the naked form in his bed and admired his mate. Pale skin, nicely muscled, faint scars of prior encounters with creatures that hadn't been happy to see a Grimm.

Just touching Nick spread assurance through him. He wasn't alone any longer. He would never be alone again. The distress of before had vanished, making room for clarity and self-awareness, for contentment and security.

He let claws emerge, trailed over the scars, then let his mouth follow. Even if the injuries were old and healed, the scars still fading, he wanted to soothe them. He knew there would be no chance to keep Nick from getting injured in the future, but he still hated the very idea.

The regnant's eyes fell on the obvious signs of the claiming, but there was no rush rising inside him to apologize. Nor was there regret. The coins hadn't been able to give this to him. The Grimm had resisted. His mate was strong, immune to the coins, so much more than the regnant. There was no doubt in his mind who was in control.

The emotions inside him churned.

Nick was a solidity in him he couldn't yet grasp, so sharp and distinct, the regnant bowed to the power. He had no qualms submitting to this man because he knew the Grimm would never take advantage of it.

When Nick had come to the precinct, fresh off the Academy, a rookie, Renard had been unable to take his eyes off him. He had known back then; everything had been clear.

His mate.

His perfect match. His equal.

He had dug into the younger man's background and he had found the connection to the Grimms, and he had felt this intense pleasure course through him at the very thought that one day his mate would be the Grimm. It was like trying to tame fire, like handling the most volatile of substances, like wanting the impossible.

Nick moved and blinked his eyes open. He didn't look panicky or like he had no idea where he was. If at all, he appeared just as lazy and relaxed as Renard felt. A slow smile spread over his features.

It was a smile Sean couldn't resist. It drew him in, made him Nick's.

"Morning," the Grimm whispered.

"A very good one," Renard replied.

It got him a wide, warm smiled. A smile he had seen on Nick's face so often before and he had longed to have it directed at him.

"No regrets?" he asked carefully.

"You?" Nick replied, brows rising.

"No."

"I hope not because I thought it was hot."

Sean chuckled. "I simply regret my hesitation to wait this long."

Nick still looked at him with those intense eyes, gray and deep and reflecting more than anyone else would ever know about him. Renard was lost in that gaze. He had waited so long and now he had this, had Nick, as more than a mate who had no idea who Renard was, only to be touched froma far.

Memories of the claiming were hazy. He recalled raw need and arousal, mixed with the knowledge that Nick was his. By the way his mate moved, he still felt the remnants of that fact.

No forced sex, no blackmail, no pressure. It had been voluntary and it had been so, so good.

Because this handsome man was the perfect match for him.

His. His alone. No one could take Nick from him, not even another regnant. If any of his kin or kind tried, they would die. It had never happened in their history because to take a mate was the worst crime.

The need to have Nick had eradicated all other thought. He had fought the primal impulses for as long as he could, but then…

…not any more.

"You okay?" he wanted to know.

With the feverish heat of the mating gone, with the influence of the coins no longer clouding his judgment, his logical side had come forth. He still remembered the coin-induced dreams, of so much power, of loyal followers, of what he could do by just uniting everyone in his territory against crime. He hadn't dreamed of taking Nick and making him his; it would have made him sick remembering such a thing.

The coins had only enhanced everything tenfold. It had been like a drug-induced high. And no coming down again; only the high. He had been lured into this dream and the withdrawal had been terrible.

Renard also remembered the wild hunger for his mate, wanting him with him, wanting Nick to come to him, to be his.

Here he was now. Voluntarily. Wanting him of his own free will. Wanting not only the human, but also accepting and wanting the creature.

"I'm fine," Nick answered, an easy smile on his lips.

Fingers trailed over his chest, following invisible lines, drawing patterns. They brushed over his sides where the tattoos stood out against his skin. He would have to tell Nick about their meaning. He would have to tell his mate so much and hope he would understand. Renard knew that some of the truths he would have to reveal would shock Nick, maybe even drive him into hostility, but he fervently hoped that they could and would work through it.

Everything he had done had been to protect his city and with it his mate.

Nick seemed to pick up on his changing mood, brows drawing down a little. His caress never stopped.

"Sean?"

"Nothing," he replied, knowing that it was a lie and sooner or later they had to talk. "I'm just… amazed."

It got him another warm smile, though he wasn't fooled into thinking Nick hadn't noticed the lie. "Yeah."

Renard's eyes were on the bite in Nick's shoulder. His fangs were long and sharp and had sliced into the warm flesh, but the bleeding had been contained. He reached out and trailed a feather-light caress over the scabbed wounds.

The primal side purred with satisfaction.

And Nick looked knowingly at him.

"It's going to smart for a day or two," the regnant murmured, leaning down to lick over the injury. "But there won't be an infection."

"Saliva?"

"Yes."

Nick took that in a stride.

Renard let a hand glide over the smooth, pale chest with its spattering of dark hair. Faint, reddish marks spoke of his claws, but he hadn't broken the skin. By tonight the scratches would be gone. He kissed his Grimm, gently at first, testing the waters, then with more demand. Nick's fingers carded into his hair, holding him in place as he answered the kiss just as fiercely.

Renard nipped at the lower lip and grinned, snaking one hand to caress Nick's buttocks. Part of him wondered how often he had claimed his mate. From Nick's reaction, the sudden widening of his pupils as Renard let an explorative finger slide inside, followed by a moan, it had been several times. But that sound hadn't been painful, more like slight stimulation…

The regnant fought to get his brain out of the gutter and back on track. It wasn't the time to talk kinks. He would keep it in mind, though.

"I think we'll have to think of something else for the next time," he murmured, removing his hand.

While sinking into his mate was heaven, he would never voluntarily hurt Nick.

"As long as the next time isn't right now," Nick remarked.

Renard kissed him again, running calming hands over the lean sides, reveling in the feel and taste of his mate.

"Sean…"

The gray eyes were knowing. Renard didn't feel the slightest bit of embarrassment.

"Possessive much?" Nick teased.

It got him a shrug.

His grandmother had once told him that to find the perfect partner would be a matter of seconds, a matter of the sure knowledge that this was the one, and that if he found the one, he would know what to do.

He had found Nick years ago and he had marked him as his mate in a very subtle way. He had never claimed him.

Now he had.

In a way the regnant in him had done that; he had given the creature free reign, had let the primal side take over in the sure knowledge that he would never hurt the other man.

"Sorry about… that…" He meant the bite.

"Heat of the moment?"

"In a way."

"You lost it."

Renard let his head sink onto the warm shoulder, sighting. "Yes. It's been a while since that happened so… completely. I apologize."

Nick's fingers played over his neck, calming the upset creature inside him. He let himself enjoy the caresses, relaxing a little.

"I trust you, Sean. You didn't hurt me. I just hope the scarring won't be too obvious. I don't want to explain that to a nurse or a doctor."

He looked up. Nick smiled softly, the Grimm so accepting and calm it boggled Renard's mind. He kissed him gently. Their mouths dragged over each other, tongues teasing.

"I have to get into work today," Nick murmured lazily when they separated. "Reports to write et cetera. My boss is a hardass when it comes to that."

Renard chuckled, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere way too much. "I heard."

"And you have today off because you got whacked on the head."

"Hm."

"Doctor's orders."

"I'm okay."

"I know you are." Nick kissed him, then wriggled a little.

Renard reluctantly let him go, eyes on the slender, pale form as Nick went into the bathroom. He had to hold himself back not to follow. It wouldn't end with just sharing the shower.

Nick had work to do. And he had a few things to take care of himself.

tbc...


	6. Chapter 6

Monroe took one look at the slender man on his porch, then opened the door wide with an eyeroll. Nick gave him an easy grin, carrying the sixpack of microbrew inside. He was dressed in his usual jeans and long-sleeve shirt with a jacket thrown over it. There was the tell-tale bulge of his gun under the jacket and his shield was pinned to his waist. His gait was relaxed and Monroe didn't really have to take a very deep sniff to know.

He raised an eyebrow when Nick dumped the beer on the kitchen table, handing Monroe a bottle. He inspected it, raising his brows as he read the label. Very good beer. Really, really good beer. This one had cost Nick.

"You're in a good mood," the blutbad remarked, toasting him, then taking a deep gulp. "You get your schakal?"

"Yeah."

"What about the steinadler?"

Nick's face turned slightly pensive for a moment. "He got away."

"You let him." Because Monroe knew his Grimm. He easily translated those words.

Nick gave a half-shrug. "Yes and no. He… got the coins and I had to get them back."

"But you let him live another day?"

"I had no reason to kill him, Monroe. Just because my ancestors happily chopped off heads doesn't mean I inherited that trait!"

He raised his hands. "Whoa, dude! I know that. You're the good Grimm. But hey, if those things are as toxic as you made them to be, won't he come after you? Them?"

Nick closed his eyes, then sighed. "Maybe. I don't know. A lot happened."

"Connected to the steinadler?"

"Yeah."

He peered at the younger man, then, "Grab that beer and let's sit down."

Because Nick had come here to talk. Maybe not about the whole steinadler-schakal-coin stuff, but there was something on his mind. He had known the man for long enough by now to tell that it would come out and Monroe would be the agony aunt who listened to him. And gave him a few hints, hopefully helpful, if he could.

Well, he had never said no before.

 

When Nick was done talking about the latest case, the coins and Farley Kolt and everything connected to him, Monroe was staring at him open-mouthed, eyes wide, and the beer had been forgotten. Not just because of the coins – that he could ignore – or the revelation about Nick's family's death – tragic, but still a very Grimm way to die. And maybe the whole Marie-steinadler-engagement thing ranked really high on the 'what the fuck?' scale, but then there was something else. This was about Nick's changed private life; his love life.

"Wow, geez, man! That's… you slept with a, a, a… you mean you mated with one of us? Dude!"

Nick chuckled wryly and emptied his bottle. "I know."

"You Grimms stop at nothing!"

Nick rolled his eyes with a good-natured smile.

So maybe the Grimm-aunt-steinadler angle had more than a slightly shocking note to it. Grimms weren't really known to sleep with their enemy. Well, not really enemy. More like… uh… prey? No, not right either. Monroe saw himself as no one's prey, more like a… victim? Yeah, that sounded about right.

Then again, what did Monroe really know about Grimms? Nothing. Only that the stories he had been told didn't fit Nick Burkhardt. Just like he was teaching the young Grimm about the creature world, Nick was teaching him about Grimms. Not that he would ever make the mistake to assume every Grimm was like his. Nick was very special.

Now he was mated to a regnant.

"I heard rumors down the grapevine that Portland had a Guardian, but you know… Rumors. Just rumors. Like hearing about the new kind of Grimm and all."

Nick nodded, understanding.

"So he's your boss at work and you couldn't really see them right away?"

"Yep." Nick ran a hand through his dark hair. "I didn't even notice the claim he had on me right from day one."

"I think that was on purpose. He really wouldn't have made a move on you?"

"No."

"Huh. So those coins launched the whole revelation thing? At least something good came out of it." Monroe suddenly frowned. "Uh, he's okay with me, right? He knows I'm not poaching. We're friends, right? Good friends. And I help you. I'm a good wolf. I'm not mauling the Grimm!"

Nick raised his hands, smiling that easy smile. "He knew from the first moment I came to you. There's apparently not a lot that went past him when it came to a Grimm in his territory. And he's really okay with it. You're my friend, Monroe, and I won't turn my back on any of my friends just because I'm mated to Sean."

Monroe relaxed a little, shoulders sagging as the sudden tension left him.

"Wow," he just repeated. "Our little Grimm all grown up." He grinned.

Nick just rolled his eyes.

"Not to poke in open wounds and stuff, but the whole thing about your parents? I'm sorry, man. I really am."

"Thanks."

"You hid the coins?"

Nick nodded. In the trailer at first, but he had gone back and taken them out, aware that maybe, just maybe, a trailer might not be the safest place. Now they were buried deep, far away from civilization, far off the beaten path, and hopefully they would never come back.

"Good." Monroe nodded emphatically.

Nick played with the empty beer bottle. "I didn't know Aunt Marie had been engaged, that she left her fiancé to raise me. I knew nothing at all about her life prior to her taking me in."

"She never told you? She protected you, Nick. You were a kid."

"And now I'm her heir and I'm finding out stuff I really could do without."

"Your mother was a Grimm and she guarded those coins." Monroe looked intensely at him.

"I'm a Grimm and the coins aren't with me," Nick reassured him. "Would have helped to know that little tidbit about my family before Marie died. She said it hadn't been an accident, but she was gone so fast… To hear it from a wesen, to know she had been engaged to him…" He ran a hand through his hair. "Makes you wonder what my dad might have been."

Monroe coughed. "What?"

It got him a shrug. The blutbad snorted.

"You think you got some creature in you?"

"Why are Grimms different from humans? What gives us the edge?"

Monroe raised his hands. "No clue. Not my area, dude. You don't have a book on that?"

Nick chuckled. "No. I doubt Grimms wrote down their family history anywhere."

"Oh. Right. Just in case it was found. Gotcha. So!" He clapped his hands. "You're now a regnant's mate"

Nick smiled, pushing the thoughts about his family, about his aunt, aside. "Yeah. It changes nothing, though."

"Uh-huh."

"Really!"

Monroe rolled his eyes and took a deep swallow. "Aside from getting laid on a regular basis," he teased.

Nick sank back and gave him a sulk-glare, but there was a light in those eyes that spoke of his happiness, despite all the pain knowing about his family had brought.

Good for him, Monroe thought. Nick needed happiness. He had earned it. And he didn't doubt for a moment that the Grimm wasn't just a pawn for the powerful regnant. He had a mind of his own and Renard would have his hands full.

Monroe grinned.

Nick was a very strong man and not someone's beta. Monroe, who knew about families and packs, followed him. Renard would, too. In his own way. As a mate.

Oh, it would be very entertaining to watch those fights, the blutbad mused. Because he just knew he would be right in the middle of it since Nick was his best friend.

Yeah, the future wouldn't be boring at all.

* * *

"You didn't listen," the voice at the other end of the phone said.

Renard sighed. "Yes," he answered.

"You thought you were stronger than the coins."

Another sigh. "I failed."

"Where are they now?"

"Lost. Gone. I don't know."

He really didn't and he hadn't asked Nick. He wouldn't, either. He didn't need to know because the coins had only brought pain and death. Many had died because of them, protecting them, trying to steal them, using them.

Good fortune. Wealth. Power. It meant nothing any more. He had it. He had his mate.

There was silence. "And you cravings?" the man asked coolly.

None. He had none. There was no need racing through him to find the coins, to possess them again. All he felt was… balanced and warm and wonderful. He felt Nick with him, even though his Grimm had left to handle a new case. Part of him was with Renard, though.

"No cravings," he finally said.

It got him a snort. "Liar."

"There are none," he repeated.

More silence. Then, "I see."

It wasn't like regnants kept a lot from each other and finding his mate in a young subordinate had made it back to his European family line. Not that there were any happy reunions ever, but regnants kept in touch. Paris' regnant just happened to be family.

"Apparently some good can come out of these cursed coins then."

Renard chuckled. "Apparently."

"Take care."

"I will."

And with that the call was terminated. He leaned back, looking out the partially shuttered windows of his office, watching the people come and go, watching his officers work.

tbc...


	7. Chapter 7

He came back to his apartment later than he had planned and he found Nick already there. He had given his mate the key code for the door.

"Hey there. I thought you were supposed to take it easy?" Nick teased.

"I'm fine."

"Politics?"

"In a way."

"Do I want to know?"

"Probably not."

Renard wrapped an arm around the smaller man's waist, kissing him softly, enjoying the feel of the Grimm against him. Their kisses continued, deep and loving and quite hot, but aside from a little caressing and stroking, neither initiated the next step.

It was like a low-key thrill, something to have and to hold and to enjoy, something no one else but him could ever feel this way. Nothing could ever compare to this amazing feeling of belonging, of having his mate, his Grimm.

He didn't want the coins any more. He felt no need, no lust, no hunger for them. He had told the other regnant the truth.

Nick balanced him.

Perfectly.

"So, what was it about?" Nick asked, smiling slyly.

Renard chuckled. "Tenacious."

"You knew that before we went this far."

"Hm, yes." He brushed his lips over his mate's.

Nick wriggled his hands under the dress shirt, easily accessing warm skin to stroke and caress. Renard closed his eyes and enjoyed the intimacies.

"There is a lot to tell," he finally murmured, nibbling at one ear.

"And you will tell me."

"Yes."

"No lies."

No. Never. He would try to cushion Nick's fall into the world of creature politics and schemes, but the regnant knew that he couldn't hide everything for long. Nick was truly tenacious, like a dog with a bone, and he would dig until he saw the truth.

"No lies," he echoed.

Buttons popped open and Nick trailed teasing fingers over his tattoos. He dragged blunt nails over Renard's side and the expression in the green eyes grew more… feral.

The shirt fell away.

Nick mirrored the hungry, feral smile. It made Renard shiver. Those gray eyes held an untamed fire, one that spoke of who and what this man was. And what he could still grow into.

The next thing he knew, Nick had pushed him against the wall and his mouth was thoroughly ravaged by the Grimm. Renard curled his fingers into the waistband of his mate's pants, drawing him closer, his tongue battling against Nick's for dominance while in the same breath submitting to him.

They separated, breathing hard, eyes wild and dilated. Renard's eyes glowed golden. A flush covered Nick's paler skin and his hair looked unruly. He had never looked more desirable and a longing rose, a longing so primal it shut out everything else. Something seemed to fizz through him, sizzle along his nerves, settling way down south.

Renard drew Nick into another kiss that grew more demanding with every second. He was acutely aware of Nick's body against his, so perfect, so familiar, but still very new and exciting. His desire rose several notches, thoughts colliding with each other, tumbling around in his head.

He had no idea how they made it to the bedroom. He only knew they were suddenly there, in the perfectly clean and stylish private rooms of his apartment. The bed was just behind him.

Renard let his hands slide down the stomach to the waistband and made quick work of the zipper. Nick watched him with darkening eyes. His fingers wove into Sean's hair as the regnant sank lower, freeing the straining erection and Nick gasped loudly as warm lips and a moist mouth took him in. Renard paid very keen attention to each sound the Grimm made and his fingers dug into the firm buttocks and hips, holding him in place whenever he twitched.

"Sean..." Nick whispered, touching his head, raking his fingers through the dark hair. "So good..."

His hips moved again and Renard steadied him. He repeated his ministrations, sometimes adding a new little twist. He teased Nick with a gentle scratch of claws, drawing a shiver of arousal and brief fear. He gazed up, never stopping the suction, the caresses, the scraping of blunt teeth over the hard length.

Nick's expression was one of total trust and hunger.

He came not much later with a hoarse groan and Renard caught his mate as Nick slid down to the floor, wrapping his arms around him, resting his head against Sean's shoulder.. The only sound was harsh breathing.

"That was amazing," the Grimm murmured.

"Isn't over yet," Renard promised.

The gray eyes shone with passion, love and desire, the heat in their depth making Renard shiver.

"I certainly hope not, Sean."

He cupped Renard's cheek with one hand and leaned forward to kiss him gently. It turned from gentle and soft into hard and demanding.

Part of Renard was stunned by the incredible power behind each touch, the flaming desire that was burning across his very soul. Another part just wanted to throw his mate across the bed and get on with it.

That part won.

* * *

Going back to work had been a little awkward. Not exactly for Nick but for Renard, who clearly remembered his captivating speech, as well as his jubilant audience. It looked like the coins had been able to transfer the charisma and radiance and influence onto the listeners.

Of course Renard wanted stability and order for his protectorate. It was what he was always working at, what had him manipulate who he needed. He didn't need an influential office; he worked behind the scenes. He didn't need power; only those under his control that were in power.

Nick had learned a lot about his mate in the last few days, watching the unflappable and stern captain as he guided his officers, as he talked to politicians, as he steered matters to his favor, and he was impressed. So many things made sense now and so many more left him with burning questions.

But one thing at a time.

He didn't let the new relationship interfere with work and Captain Sean Renard wasn't the man to go all soft and give him longing looks throughout the day. He had perfected the cool distance and nothing even hinted that the two men had slept together, let alone had a relationship that went beyond a one night stand.

Even when Nick and Hank went to their captain's office to update him on the latest homicide they were working – Jane Doe found behind a dumpster – there was nothing. Nick played it as before and Renard treated him just the same.

Outside work they spent as much time together as Nick's job as a Grimm allowed, and since he logged a lot of night hours on that, sleeping in the same bed was a rarity. But Nick made sure to come to Renard's place to catch a few hours of sleep. He had a key and Sean had a key to his place. There had been no talk about moving in together, simply because a change of address would go through Personnel and sharing an address with his captain was a no-go. There was also the fact that Renard wasn't likely to give up his sleek condo and Nick didn't really want to sell the house. It was too big for him alone, but it was his retreat.

No, thinking about all of that within the first two weeks of becoming more than simply colleagues was too fast and too soon.

*

Renard leaned against the window frame, one shoulder firmly lodged against it, and gazed out of the window. He hadn't opened the doors to the balcony. It was too cold to enjoy the morning, though he wasn't easily discomforted. He simply enjoyed the closed-off environment that kept the sound outside.

Four o'clock on a Sunday had a threat of snow hanging in the air, the sun not yet up and the night filled with silence. There was hardly anyone out and about this time and the few cars creeping down the street were either cabs, delivery trucks or people returning home from a party with their designated and very much sober driver kicking them out where they lived.

He sipped from his mug of hot coffee, savoring the taste. The strong aroma woke him a little more and he glanced at the bedroom. Renard had woken early and he had watched the sleeping Grimm in his bed for a while, then got up and showered, made coffee, and looked out the window, enjoying the peace.

He turned back to his silent vigil over the city he had chosen as his protectorate.

He didn't miss the coins. Somehow, looking back, it was all a nightmare he wanted nothing to do with any more. Sean Renard had fallen under the influence and he had been saved. He didn't need the enhancements. He didn't need the coins. He was powerful all on his own.

Soft steps announced the presence of his mate and he smiled when a hand slid over his back, along his waist, and Nick placed a kiss against one shoulder.

"You're up early for a Sunday."

"I could say the same. I knew last night was... eventful."

Nick grimaced, nails scratching lightly over the tattoo. "Kinda. But I got it. Nothing serious."

Their lips met without him even consciously thinking of it and the ensuing kiss was intimate and gentle and slightly hotter than probably intended. Renard wrapped his free arm around the other man, pulled him close. Nick was still sleepy, probably because he had come home just an hour ago and still hadn't been able to sleep.

"You have today off. Go and catch up on sleep," he murmured.

"And you?"

"I didn't go out hunting elusive wesen until the wee hours of the morning with my blutbad sidekick."

Nick snorted. "Don't let Monroe hear that." He yawned a little, still brushing his fingers over Renard's back. "Tell me about the tattoos."

There was a moment of silence, then the gray eyes captured him again, held him in their depth. Renard knew he had handed over power to Nick a long time ago. There was nothing he wouldn't do for him. The whole truth would one day be between them and he feared that day, the pain it would bring, the possible rejection.

"They don't look inked," Nick prodded softly when he didn't answer, tracing the whirly shapes.

"They aren't." He didn't want to lose this. Ever. Nick so close, in his embrace, the quiet grace and strength, the sharp tang and the smooth darkness of the hunter who had claimed part of his soul.

"Wesen trait?"

"In a way." He caught the wandering hands and trapped them against the cool glass, enjoying the shiver running through Nick, enjoying the look of want in the gray eyes. "You saw the wings."

"I saw shapes." Nick's brow furrowed.

"We don't have them right away. Wings are part of the maturing process. The tattoos appear when we're 'of age', so to speak."

It got Renard a smile. "Hence the slight curving from your back?"

"Yes."

The graceful swirls arched from his sides to the middle of his back, but they didn't touch anywhere close to his spine, almost petering off. If one looked closely, they saw a last, dwindling line that seemed to sink into his skin.

Nick looked thoughtfully at him, still trapped between the glass and Renard's half-naked form. "Show me?" he finally requested.

Give up control. Again. Hand it over to Nick. Let him guide him. The coins had forced the regnant out from behind the shields when his logical thinking had succumbed to their power; he had acted, he had begged, he had emotions override everything.

Now there was nothing of that. There was only Nick.

Like folding out of his side and back, too big to be real, too big to be really hidden anywhere on his body but still truly there, the dark wings whispered as skin unfolded. Bony structures, almost like a bat's but still so different, able to lift him if he truly wanted to. Nick's eyes were wide with wonder and Renard let go of the trapped hands as Nick wanted to touch.

"Wow," the Grimm whispered, fascinated.

He curved one wing into the tender caress. Nick's touch was electrifying and while his wings weren't that sensitive, right now they seemed to be.

Catching the hand again, threading their fingers together, Sean pushed Nick once again against the glass, claiming his mouth in a tender kiss, deepening it, tasting his mate. He curled both wings forward, hiding Nick in a cocoon of warmth, feeling that burst of affection and love once more.

How could he have not had this? For years, just looking from afar? And it had taken the Coins of Zakynthos to give him his mate completely? It was beyond crazy.

Nick seemed to sink a little against him, his body more and more relaxed, and when Sean looked at him again, he saw the exhaustion of the late night creature chase. He gathered him close.

"Sleep, Nick. You're exhausted."

It got him a glare and a mutter. But Nick didn't fight him that much when he maneuvered him into the bedroom and onto their tossed bed. Renard had already let the wings blend back into his body, the appendages hindering his day-to-day life anyway. For regnants they were a tool for posturing and threatening others. Or to excite his mate, he mused with a sly smile.

But not right now.

Nick needed this Sunday to sleep, to catch up on the hours he had missed, and Renard would make sure of it that he got that rest.

He closed the blinds, shutting out the rising dawn, and Nick slid under the covers with a sleepy sigh. He was almost asleep when Renard settled next to him on the mattress, though not enough that he didn't seek closer contact. Nick threw an arm over Renard's thighs and buried his face against the silky pajama bottoms.

Then he was dead to the world, his breathing deepening.

Renard just sat there, watching his mate, content and warm and completely at peace with the world.

Fin!


End file.
